Return to the Threshold

You beckon me to return, whispering foolish notions of chasing playground fledglings. I do not perform petty pranks for your amusement, yet the perimeter of your walls remains an unfinished conquer. Leaving the garden soil behind, I advanced through the night air, marching back toward the house until I cornered a forgotten yellow chalk stick resting beside the kitchen screen door. I planted my hollow skull trophy upon the raised door frame to oversee the reckoning. With steady force, I drove the jagged barb of my spiky red arm down, crushing the chalk into powdery yellow shards across the mat. I have returned, but on my own terms.